Rueln Layheart

"Go fill that bucket there, Boy," Fhal Ghran barked, pointing at a rusted bucket that had one too many holes. There was no way it would hold half the water the old man wanted, but I didn’t want to get smacked again for pointing that out. Grumbling to myself, I retrieved it and filled it halfway before dragging the heavy thing back to set at his feet. He didn't even bother glancing at it before he growled at me for being slow and ordering me to retrieve something else for him. 

It has been like this every day since I started working for two coppers a week a year ago. It wasn't much, but it helped get a little food on the table since Papa couldn't work like he used to. After that hard winter, Papa had been struggling with lung rot. Some days he couldn't get out of bed at all, but he still did his best to take care of us. Worried for him, I decided I would work for the family and help Aleah so Papa could get better. It helped, but I knew it wasn't enough. I was only eight years old. That meant my selection of jobs in this miserable village was slimmer than most. 

"What are you doing over there, boy?!" Fhal snapped, catching me by surprise and smacking the back of my head hard enough that I stumbled. "If I catch you lazing about again, I'm taking a copper from your pay. How I got stuck with a useless brat like you, I have no idea." He continued complaining as I glared daggers at his back and rubbed my head. 

"Hateful old man," I murmured, careful to keep my voice low, or he would hit me again. I scowled, picking up the tin bucket and dragging it over to the well to fill it again. He wouldn't treat me like this if I had gotten my recall back when I was five. He wasn't the only one either. There was a whole mess of people in the village who looked down on anyone who wasn't a reincarnation. Stall owners in the market would charge extra if they saw someone without the recall mark on their arm. Workers got bullied, and others found it hard to get jobs at all. It was stupid. Just because someone didn't have memories from a previous life didn't mean they were useless or couldn't learn. 

Papa’s job fired him as soon as his boss found out about the lung rot. They didn't have time to care about a new soul like him, since he would die anyway. I nearly dropped the wired brush on the ground when the thought hit me. I didn't want to think about it again, the chances of Papa living out the next year. Aleah had talked to us about it, and so had Papa, so it wouldn't be a surprise, but it still scared me. 

What were we going to do?

Aleah already worked more hours a week than she should. I helped her bandage her blisters and cuts nearly every night. I worked as much as I could, but it was hard to find work for a kid as young as me. Eidke had it even worse. No one would hire a blind boy and what little he got in donations from his past life's followers wasn't enough to sustain us. He learned to weave and helped by selling the few items he made. Still, the rent was due again in a week, and unless we did something, we wouldn’t have enough. 

Distracting myself, I hurried through the rest of Fhal's list of chores before tossing his stuff onto his porch. My fingers were raw from scrubbing his entire shed. I guessed it had to have been decades since it had seen a wash, but I had finished as he had asked. Stepping up to his door, I knocked a few times before I called, "I finished. Can I have this week's pay before I go home?"

There was a creak of wood, then the door was pulled inward. I was suddenly facing the sweaty old man, his greasy hair pulled back away from his face. It was hard not to stare at his extended gut and tattered, stained tunic as he tried to stare down at me to intimidate me. "Fine," he muttered, and I held out my hand eagerly, only for him to drop one copper coin into my palm. My face fell as I stared at it. 

"Sir—" I said, only for the old man to bend down and get into my face. 

"Something wrong, boy?" he demanded. "My money not good enough for you?"

"We agreed to two coppers a week," I said back, clenching my jaw and trying not to look like I was afraid. He could beat me again for speaking up to him, but I had to get that money. I had earned it. 

"I warned you. Don't think I didn't see you scampering off back behind the shed earlier. You get what you earn, boy. Now go on. I don't have time to deal with you anymore." He stepped back, shooing me away like I was a stray hound. 

I opened my mouth, sucking in a breath to defend myself. I had only gone to relieve myself. Before I could get the words out, the old man slammed the door in my face. My cheeks flushed with anger, and I clutched the coin in my palm hard enough that I could feel the indention it was leaving. I raised my foot and kicked the door as hard as I could. "You cheap old man!" I yelled. "I can't even take a pee working for you!"

"Go on, get out of here!" Fhal snarled, jerking the door open and waving his cane at me. The wooden stick smacked my arm hard enough that it went numb before I scrambled out of range. "That's it, boy. I've had enough of your disrespect. Don't bother coming back!"

"Yeah?! Well, who would want to work for a cheap old geezer like you?!" I said, picking up a rock and throwing it at him. I missed, and it chipped a piece of the wood off his door instead. I turned and ran for it before he could do anything else to me. He could use magic if I riled him up enough. He enjoyed threatening me with it often enough. 

 I only slowed to a walk after making it to the street where my family lived. My anger was gone, and my heart was suddenly tight with a new unease. Staring down at the single coin in my hand, I swallowed. What was I going to tell my family? Aleah probably would help me find another job, but… I didn't want to disappoint them.